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I have successfully curled my mustache. I am awesome, in a 1900s villianish sort of way.

Part of a conversation from last night

Erin - i hate you mister mean nasty man.

Me - No you don't. You love me. You think I'm the cat's pajamas.

Erin - I think you're the dog's balls.

This was highly amusing to me, even after she told me it was British slang for the cat's pajamas. I still laughed a lot.

I went Christmas shopping today and picked up something for David and something for Squeaks. I managed to get the item for Squeaks without his knowledge, even with him being there, because I am, in fact, smooth.

I also picked up a Dropkick Murphys CD for myself. They rock the llama. Severely.

Denny's has changed buffalo sauces. This wouldn't be a big deal if the new buffalo sauce didn't suck complete and total ass. It looks like sweet and sour and tastes like pure vinegar. Considering just about every other order is for buffaloed chicken strips, Denny's is going to lose a lot of business now.

I want to play with a kitty. Damn it.

Slainte!

John-Boy